


Tempest

by Cocoafio



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, BAMF Agatsuma Zenitsu, BAMF Hashibira Inosuke, BAMF Kamado Nezuko, BAMF Kamado Tanjirou, Best Trio, Crossover, Demigods, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Slow Burn, The Iconic Trio, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), made this because zenitsu is best boi, oh and of course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23127379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cocoafio/pseuds/Cocoafio
Summary: A prophecy has arisen. Kamado Tanjirou, Agatsuma Zenitsu and Hashibira Inosuke aren't ready, but they have to be.A coup the three unfurled.A tempest to quell the world.In other words, this is a canon divergence AU of Greek demigods!Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke set in Demon Slayer, with some splashes of angst (because everybody suffers), fancy powers, too much sleeping on Zenitsu's part, and too much swearing on Inosuke's part.
Relationships: Agatsuma Zenitsu & Everyone, Agatsuma Zenitsu & Hashibira Inosuke & Kamado Nezuko & Kamado Tanjirou, Agatsuma Zenitsu & Hashibira Inosuke & Kamado Tanjirou, Hashibira Inosuke & Everyone, Kamado Nezuko & Kamado Tanjirou, Kamado Tanjirou & Everyone
Comments: 17
Kudos: 91





	1. Tanjirou 1: The Children of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the KNY and PJO crossover! At the bottom of every chapter, there's a Taisho Secret/Greek Vocabulary Explanation in case you don't know what they are, so I hope that helps! In any case, let's start off with: kakodaimons are evil spirits or demons in Greek mythology, so here we go!
> 
> I have some story-lines planned for y'all, but it'll follow close to canon for a while before we get to some canon divergence. Also, yes, this is a slow burn. Sorry bout that, but I'm not good at creating quick one-shots for a reason hahaha (And if you see any mistakes or want to offer some constructive criticism, please feel free to do so! I'll gladly take them in to consideration!)

_Humanity ebbs and flows, leaving quarrels in its wake._

_Simple things, trivial things, and naïve little things._

_They ripple and settle, ignorant of the ocean throughout._

_They swell._

_And sink._

_Just like humanity itself._

A chilly winter breeze swirled around the trees in the slowly darkening forest. Footsteps hurriedly sounded up the trodden path, swerving quickly around the familiar woods.

The scent of blood filled the air.

Kamado Tanjirou’s eyes were blown out from adrenaline and shock as he screamed for his family. He took another step before slowing to an unsteady stop and his legs gave out right under him, crunching into the heavy snow.

“Nezuko…?” he murmured, “…Rokuta?”

The wisps of his breath were answered with his own silence.

Fingers clawing into the snow as he flung himself forward, his breaths shot out like bullets.

“Takeo? Hanako? SHIGERU? MOM?” A frantic pace kept him going, despite wild flashes of how his family could have been if he was faster, if he wasn’t as weak and if he didn’t decide to stay with the old man. _How happy they would be. Welcome home, Tanjirou, they would say._

_Would they say that though…?_ His mind briefly dashed to a hidden dark part of his mind before he quickly shook it off and tried to save the family he had left.

His fingers dashed around his still-warm sister, unsure of what to do and where to put it. “Nezuko…!”

As he cradled his sister and his fingers called out to the wet snow, his cries were to his family as his tears were to his soul. The silence took both. He shuddered and the water he gathered shuddered along with him.

“Please…” Tanjirou scrambled as his fingers danced on the body of his sister, attempting to clean the wounds with water, inexperienced as he was. “Shit… Come on…!”

He flicked the water away. Swinging his sister behind him, Tanjirou stumbled down the mountain as fast he could, sweat dripping, breaths stuttered.

After a few slipping steps, a low growl sounded behind him, and he flinched and grabbed the axe handle with which he brought down the mountain. Fangs shot out from the corner of his eye as he was flipped to the ground.

Tanjirou’s eyes widened. “Nezuko…?”

A bloodlust never before seen shone in his sister’s eyes unlike the eyes that had usually reflected the sparkling water of a crisp green lake. They were startling pink, with hints of electricity sparking in her eye.

Nezuko’s teeth latched on to the axe – the only thing separating Tanjirou and death.

“Nezuko, please!” he cried as both trembled with the sheer amount of force used in the battle of strength.

Despite stormy waves crashing ashore and guilt unfurling in his stomach, Tanjirou shouted, “Nezuko! It’s Tanjirou! Please! Remember me…?”

As his efforts grew weaker, Nezuko’s pink eyes focused solely on her brother’s face and slowly, the pressure loosened. Her eyes centered on her brother, tears of pain and suffering slowly gathered.

And it was like the turning of a faucet under all its pressure, as Tanjirou saw the glistening tears reflected in his sister’s eyes, he cried.

It was a miracle.

Nezuko _saw_ him.

A brief respite between the two siblings filled the silence.

However, a _thwip_ from a nearby branch quickly had him jumping back, dragging his sister along with him.

Tanjirou stared with enlarged eyes, shining with unfallen tears. A man with shoulder-length black hair and dull eyes stared back. An ancient-looking outfit and sword hanging by his side has Tanjirou startled and clutching his sister even tighter.

“Who are you?” he managed to squeeze out.

The man gave no answer and instead replied, “Why are you protecting a kakodaimon?”

_A kakodaimon…?_

“She’s my sister!”

“… She’s a kakodaimon.”

“Please…” Tanjirou cried as he pulled his sister in tighter, “She won’t kill anyone! I’ll make sure of it and I’ll find a cure, a-and she’ll be a human again! So, please! Don’t hurt her!”

The swordsman stared impassively, but his words were said with a hint of anger, “You’re too weak. You can’t even protect yourself, let alone your sister.”

Instead of a response, the figure dashed in to Tanjirou’s space, giving him no room to react. _A swift swing of his sword, a shove to his side, a kick to his back_ , and he stood up, with Tanjirou’s sister at swordpoint and Tanjirou far away from both of them.

Tanjirou screamed as the sword was driven right in to Nezuko’s chest, and his arms moved automatically, clutching a nearby rock, before he could properly react.

His arm snapped forward to throw the rock, and retracted immediately afterwards, swinging his arm down an arc.

The man scoffed, blunted handle of the sword knocking Tanjirou out in one blow, before his eyes widened.

A sharp breeze warned the swordsman of an attack from behind, as he flipped in to the air to see a wave of snow hit where he was standing. He gazed in shocked wonder at the snow pile at his feet, as he landed.

A flash in the corner of his eyes warned an impending attack of the girl kakodaimon on her brother. Cursing his momentary distraction, the swordsman pivoted on his foot, gliding across the snow swiftly as he reached to pull out his sword.

His movements stopped to a halt as the girl kakodaimon stood there. She snarled and stood there, waiting with her arms wide, in an effort to protect her brother.

“How special…” the swordsman murmured.

The female kakodaimon rushed towards him, and he sheathed his sword.

Instead, his hand moved to sweep down, causing the snow at the bottom of her feet to build, tripping her, before bringing it back up and knocking her out in one move.

* * *

Tanjirou wakes up with tears in his eyes.

In a flash, memories crashes into him, and he quickly sits up, “Nezuko…!”

His sister lies peacefully beside him in a dreamless sleep and a bamboo muzzle covering her fangs.

His eyes quickly flicker up and catch the gaze of the swordsman. Immediately, Tanjirou moves closer to his sister in panic.

The swordsman watches them coolly, before turning around to head to the edges of the forest. He says, over his shoulders, “Go find Sakonji Urokodaki. Tell him Giyuu Tomioka sent you.”

Waves of panic hits Tanjirou, “Wait…!”

Instead, the man, Tomioka, cuts him off, “Don’t let your sister go in to direct sunlight.”

A sudden flurry of snow sweeps behind where Tomioka was.

Tanjirou stares at the spot where Tomioka had stood.

He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taisho Secret! (Greek Vocabulary and Concepts Ed. [Specific to the PJO Universe])
> 
> Kakodaimon (also spelled cacodemon or cacodaemon): an evil spirit, demon, or supernatural being, which should not be confused with daimon (or daemon), which is a neutral spirit or deity
> 
> Poseidon: god of the seas, storms, and horses (among many other things), one of the Big Three; Roman counterpart: Neptune
> 
> Big Three: Zeus (lord of the sky), Poseidon (god of the seas) and Hades (god of the Underworld); all of them are brothers, born from Rhea and Kronos


	2. Tanjirou 2: The Wisdom of the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Mist is a powerful thing, Tanjirou. It’s best you never forget that.”
> 
> In other words, Tanjirou is confused ^tm, and Nezuko is asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hints of canon divergence are increasingly scattered about, but we're still following the canon timeline right now! I really want to fast forward to where we get the plot moving (and perhaps, just perhaps, hit some slight canon divergence), but alas, can't do that until I give some background details via main KNY plot. In the meantime, enjoy this prologue-esque start of the story!
> 
> (Also, not really relevant... but... I really don't like the pacing of this chapter - it seems kind of rushed? And I need to relearn how to write fan fiction because I keep trying to write it, in an academic paper-style. As a result, it ain't good. ijsoafldisajfsji uni is killing me.)

It’s been days since Nezuko became passive and quiet. It feels like Tanjirou has been travelling alone since. All she gave were small murmurs and nods when Tanjirou asked her if she needed anything.

It’s been even longer since he was left with that obscure message from that swordsman.

It was a sweltering day earlier, with heat curling up around them, and now that it's dawn, Tanjirou glances back at the bamboo basket behind him. They've nearly arrived at Mt. Sagiri.

“Nezuko, are you okay in there?” he murmurs to the basket behind him.

A shake of the basket indicates yes.

He sighs.

The sky is turning pitch black when he lowers the basket to the ground and lets Nezuko grow into her full size, before lifting the basket back up. His hand goes to adjust the strap, when a coppery scent wafts through the air.

Tanjirou freezes. _Blood…!_

His steps quickly lead him to a small house on the edge of a dark and dense forest. The residence looks like any other house, with wooden steps leading to the front of the doorsteps. A small family would live there. _A small family like his._

The scent of blood intensifies and Tanjirou isn’t sure if it was the memories rushing in or if it is actually in reality.

His hands slam the door open, and he is immediately frozen. He barely notices that Nezuko freezes behind him too.

_Blood… blood everywhere. Bodies lying on the ground._

_He could almost recognize their faces._

_Hanako. Mom. Take-_

“What are you doing here? This is my territory.”

It’s a kakodaimon.

_Wait. He can speak?!_

“Oh?” The kakodaimon’s face splits into a wide grin, “A human and a demon?”

Tanjirou flinches as the kakodaimon stands up and saunters towards them, away from its meal on the floor.

In a flash, the kakodaimon is lunging for him, and Tanjirou flings the hatchet in his hand towards it, out of instinct, but he quickly finds himself tackled on to the floor.

“Sto—" his breaths are choked off as the hands tighten around his neck, before the pressure is suddenly removed, a body slamming to the right in his vision.

Tanjirou coughs, a hand flying to cup his throat, and the other grabbing the hatchet on the floor. Nezuko stands before him, glaring at the kakodaimon head on the ground.

“Why is a human and demon teaming up?!” the kakodaimon’s head spits in outrage.

Tanjirou stares at the kakodaimon’s head in shock, before Nezuko is tackled by the body on the side. Meanwhile, Tanjirou finds himself clawing against a head and growing hair that threatens to choke him again. _Get away…! Go away! I need to help Nezuko!_

His arms are increasingly tangled with the hair and Tanjirou scrambles to fight it off. His fingers flex instinctively for any water source nearby, but none respond. Instead, he only feels the small beads of sweat accumulating where strands of hair are tightly bound to his wrists as he struggles to free his limbs.

_GET OFF! I need to find Nezuko!_

In a move of frustration and terror, Tanjirou whips his head back and slams it on to the kakodaimon.

“AH!” The kakodaimon screams and its hair loosen enough for Tanjirou to throw it back, and on to a nearby tree, trapping it with his hatchet.

His feet pivot towards where he last saw his sister.

“Nezuko! Where are you?” His eyes flicker to the edge of a nearby cliff where his sister and the headless body is tussling.

“Nezuko!”

Tanjirou rushes at the body, and for a moment, he is airborne, his eyes widening at the bottom of the chasm that he pushed them both above.

_I’m going to die…!_

His whole world is jolted suddenly.

Fingers are wrapped tightly to his clothes and the next thing Tanjirou sees is Nezuko’s face staring at him concernedly.

“Hey…” Tanjirou gives a quick smile despite feeling bruises that he is sure that were starting to form. “Thanks, Nezuko.”

Sweeping off some dirt, Tanjirou dashes back towards to the house with Nezuko in tow, and they quickly arrive at the head of the kakodaimon still struggling behind the hatchet.

Tanjirou hesitates. _I need to kill him, before he kills anyone else!_

Flashes of the fallen bodies – _Takeo… Shigeru—_ rush through him, and his fists clench tighter.

_This is a different scent than the kakodaimon who had destroyed his family… I still need to kill him though! He’s going to kill others!_

“Kakodaimons are everywhere, aren’t they…” he murmurs to himself as sweat accumulates on his brow.

“Kakodaimons? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tanjirou’s eyes focus in on the struggling head, and his eyebrow raises in confusion, “What…? You’re a kakodaimon! What do you mean what kakodaimons are? You’re one yourself!”

The kakodaimon growls, “Excuse me? I’m a demon! Not a whatever-daimon!”

_What…? Wait, a demon?_

“Come closer and let me kill you!” the kakodaimon(?) snarls, clearly moving on from the topic prior.

Tanjirou shakes his head, _whatever he is, he’s still going to kill more people._

He crouches down to clutch a rock nearby and his knuckles become white with the sheer pressure he clutches. _I have to do this…! I need to bash his head-_

A sudden pressure.

On his shoulders.

_Wait-_

Tanjirou whips around, the rock raised in his right fist, and stops to a halt. An old man with a red noh tengu mask and cloud-patterned haori stands there.

_He smells ancient._

“You won’t be able to finish him off with that,” the man states with a firm tone. A wise and strict scent flows from the man, engulfing Tanjirou with the faintest hint of something supernatural.

Tanjirou stares for a moment.

“A-ah!”

“Wait, how do I finish him off then?” he inquires.

The other scoffs in reply, “Don’t ask me! Use your own head to figure it out.”

_Wait, so an ordinary weapon won’t work...?_

Silence reigns the area, except for the struggling and biting of the kakodaimon(?) behind them.

Tanjirou snaps to a focus, “R-right!” His hand hastily drops the rock and expands instinctively.

A gut feeling intensifies and connects to a water source nearby, and suddenly, liquid bursts from a hyotan attached to the man’s belt.

With a focus on shaping the water, Tanjirou tugs and changes the fluidity of the liquid, stretching and expanding by the length of a short blade. To his credit, the other man stands still with no signs of surprise. Tanjirou notes belatedly that the scent from him did not change at all, but rather wisdom and the supernatural aroma intensified instead.

It was this focus and wonder of the man’s reaction that does not prepare him for the sudden smack to the back of his head.

“Ow!” Tanjirou’s hands automatically moves to cover his head from the sudden attack, and the water splashes down to the forest floor below. _What in the world…?!_

“Are you a fool? What are you doing, using those powers in the open?”

“Huh?” _That was uncalled for! What do you mean – in the open-_

Sudden movement catches the edge of his vision, and Tanjirou whips his head back to stare at the demon, now slowly dissolving into the rays of the sun. His stomach lurches.

A jagged scream is ripped out from the kakodaimon and its head disappears as the rays of the sun devours him.

Tanjirou freezes. _Oh god. He just— he was— he just dissipated. Do all demons writhe and die from the sun like that?_ In an instant, his thoughts jump to another, _Wait! Nezuko! Where is she?!_

He leaps to his feet, idly noting that the masked figure was nowhere to be seen, and dashes to the clearing where he last saw his sister.

“Nezuko? Where are you— Oh thank god.” Tanjirou sighs in relief, as his eyes caught on through the doorway, to beady pink eyes in the corner of the room in the house.

She was safe.

* * *

That was then.

It had been months since Nezuko had fallen asleep, never to wake up again.

She slept endlessly, and Tanjirou grew increasingly distracted with worry.

His days dissolved into an endless sea, always wave after wave of traps, tripwires and holes trying to impede him.

His eyes navigated through the never-ending thick mist. But of course, it was nothing like _The Mist_ itself.

His feet carried him over and under, and sliding through and unfortunately, still into many of the traps.

His mind, distracted, brought him to when Mr. Urokodaki introduced himself for the first time.

_“My name is Sakonji Urokodaki. I assume you’re the one Giyuu Tomioka sent my way.” His words echoed before the graves, freshly dug and filled._

_A hollow stench still filled Tanjirou’s stomach. The thought of the demon dissolving haunted his vision. “Yes.” He replied belatedly. “I’m Kamado Tanjirou, and this is my sister, Nezuko.”_

_It was then that Mr. Urokodaki asked, “What will you do if your sister devours a human?” His tirade continued, “You’re too slow at making decisions! You failed to finish the kakodaimon off before daybreak! You’re too brazen at using your abilities! What if it was someone else that saw you?”_

_Brazen…? What? Tanjirou wanted to refute that he was the exact opposite of that._

_“There are two things to do if your sister devours a human. Kill your sister and slit your own stomach. Die. That’s what it means to travel with your sister who has become a kakodaimon. But… that must never happen. And you’d best not forget it. Your sister… taking the life of an innocent person… that’s the one thing that must never happen. Ever.”_

_“And… as for your abilities, never use it again, unless your life is on the line. The Mist will not conceal everything. Don’t rely on it to cover up your own mistakes.”_

_“Do you understand what I’m saying?”_

_A moment passed before Tanjirou nodded, “Yes.”_

Since then, Mr. Urokodaki had been training him to the furthest extent that he could handle.

Since then, the topic of his water abilities was never mentioned again, and there was a feeling of loss in the back of Tanjirou's mind.

This changed in one day.

The day that Mr. Urokodaki started teaching him new forms...

The day that he first learned Total Concentration Breathing...

The missing gap of the connection to the ocean was refilled in Tanjirou.

The forms slowly developed into a river that connected him with the neglected sea, and the water flowed even more fluidly when Mr. Urokodaki said,

“Use this form to disguise your abilities. I know you miss your connection to the sea.”

Tanjirou felt like crying. _How does he know?_

But at the same time, he didn’t dare question it further.

It was enough that Mr. Urokodaki was helping him to reach an impossible goal, to fight and find a cure for his sister. _He doesn’t need to know at this very moment._

Instead, he made a resolve. He would ask before he left for Final Selection.

 _I need to master this first. I need to connect again to the waves,_ he thought.

Tanjirou naturally flowed to the rhythm of water, his strikes dancing like the waves, disappearing and appearing like the mist of the sea.

But even with how natural it felt to strike and practice Water Breathing forms and techniques...

The boulder still stood in his way. 

* * *

_Extra Taisho Secret BONUS:_

_“Wait. Wait! What was he then?” Tanjirou gestured in the direction of where the downed kakodaimon ~~(demon?)~~ had died._

_“… What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, I thought he was a kakodaimon, and you referred to him as one, but then he said he was a demon himself, and…”_

_Mr. Urokodaki stared for a few moments before turning away, “The Mist is a powerful thing, Tanjirou. It’s best you never forget that."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taisho Secret! (Greek Vocabulary and Concepts Ed. [specific to PJO Universe])
> 
> The Mist: supernatural force controlled by Hecate (goddess of magic) that twists and hides reality from mortal minds, to something that they understand or logically think; the strength of the Mist varies on each person, and can even fool a demigod
> 
> Tanjirou's powers: hydrokinesis - any form of water can be manipulated (with concentration), water empowerment - strength and agility enhanced in the water, vitakinesis - water can be used to heal, [but cannot create water out of thin air (unlike Percy in the PJO canon)], superhuman durability and strength due to his status as a son of the Big Three; more powers that have affinity with water to be revealed...


	3. Tanjirou 3: The Arch of a Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to protect Nezuko. It wasn't enough to protect himself. But he'll make it enough - he has to. 
> 
> And with the help of two mysterious beings, he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! Quite a few line breaks this chapter, because of the time skips in canon and in this fic. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy!
> 
> We're nearing the end of Tanjirou's arc before Final Selection, and next chapter is going to be Tanjirou's final chapter, before we switch perspectives!!! I'm way ahead of myself and excited for some changes in canon, but I won't spoil it any further. Hope everyone is having a wonderful day, and see you next chapter!

Curling wisps of mist floated in the mountain air, surrounding the forest around him. A tug on his ankle had Tanjirou sprawling towards the ground, before he managed to roll to safety.

_It wasn’t enough._

His pants filled the silence briefly before a _swoosh_ was caught on the left.

His senses had been growing stronger since learning Total Breathing Concentration _but the scents kept coming too late_ , and his daily routine down the mountain had become shorter and shorter, to the point where he reached the foot of the mountain by midnight with plenty of time to spare, _but it wasn’t short enough._

His sword sliced diagonally against bamboo shoots and he went through the increasingly engrained motions that had settled into his muscles. _The sword kept getting caught by grooves of the uneven bamboo, and the bundles of bamboo kept increasing and increasing_. But it wasn’t enough, _not nearly enough!_

The one clear improvement he had seen, however, was his forms, and Tanjiro was a natural at it. It still took a great amount of effort in concentration… but when his breathing matched the same wavelength and frequency of the flow in his steps, the opening thread was clearly reflected and seen, like when the sunlight hits the surface of the ocean.

Tanjirou’s sword techniques imitated water itself. Coursing rivers, steady streams, narrow creeks.

Flowing constantly.

But they were still nothing like Mr. Urokodaki’s forms.

Where Tanjirou’s strikes were, at most, raging rivers and sharp flows, Mr. Urokodaki’s strikes were crashing waves in the vast ocean itself.

_It still wasn’t enough._

_Not enough to protect Nezuko._

_Not enough to protect myself._

* * *

_‘Nezuko, if you were awake, you would have found it funny._ _Mr. Urokodaki once shoved me into a waterfall, saying to “become one with the water” and I shouted “I AM WATER!” as I fell in to the lake below. It didn’t actually help, but it would have made you laugh.’_

 _‘My descents are getting more dangerous, and the air’s thinner where I train._ ’ He writes in his journal, ‘ _I think I’m going to die.’_

* * *

Then, it all changed one morning.

“I have nothing more to teach you.”

The next thing he knew, he was on his own. After Mr. Urokodaki led him to the boulder, and declared that his final test, Mr. Urokodaki walked away and disappeared in to the mist.

After that, Mr. Urokodaki never taught him anything again.

_Is a boulder something you slice? Something you can slice with a sword?_

I don’t think I can do it. My sword will snap.

* * *

Day after day, his frustration grew. Tanjirou tried every possible method to slice through the boulder, even abandoning the sword gifted to him by Mr. Urokodaki and using his bare hands, but nothing worked. The temptation of using his powers was strong, but there was no water source nearby.

There was no dent on the rock and no slices that _should have been there_.

Every strike at the rock had his teeth gritted, and the hint of caution that was present in the start of this training was thrown away, disregarding the caution of his sword breaking.

_…_

_Am I hopeless? Is Nezuko going to die without ever waking up?_

_…_

_Am I giving up?_

_…_

_… no._

_No. I’m Kamado Tanjirou, student of Sakonji Urokodaki, demigod son of Poseidon. Even if my father has given up on me and my family, I will not give up on them! I will not give up on Nezuko!_

The brief thought of betrayal and horror stabbed through his mind, as he recalled begging Poseidon to wake Nezuko, with the water that he put next to his sister. Tanjirou’s hands trembled and his eyes gave way to tears, as he remembered how the water hadn’t reacted, his sister slumbering on, lulled by cruel lullabies sung by the sirens of the oceans.

The sting of betrayal worsened as he remembered his family. His mother, his siblings – they all had died. _And if… if his father never left, never disappeared without a trace, would they still be laughing and living and waiting for him to come home? How could he-_

“No!” Tanjirou shook his head fervently, then stopping and his eyes locked on to the boulder, his feet marching with a new rage in his steps. _Stop blaming him, it’s your fault. And your fault only. You weren’t strong enough, you weren’t fast enough, and you certainly aren’t good enough to protect Nez-_

“Stop it!” he yelled at himself, as he threw his head back before striking the boulder.

 _Ow! That actually hurt!_ his hand rubbing the small bump on his forehead, when a voice sounded from the top of the boulder.

“A man shouldn’t whine. It’s unsightly!”

Tanjirou quickly looked up, squinting his eyes to adjust to the sunlight and the figure.

A man stood on top of the boulder, directly in front of the sun in Tanjirou’s view, and after a few seconds of blinking, the figure seemed to become tired of waiting.

The man soared before aiming to tackle Tanjirou to the ground, and Tanjirou quickly rolled out of the way, sliding his sword out of the sheathe.

Finally, the appearance of a man wearing a white fox mask with salmon-pink hair stood in front of him. A scar was barely visible on the side of his face.

Tanjirou noted the almost herbal scent wafting off of the stranger, before having to react and barely parry the wooden sword that came out of nowhere.

“Slow, weak, immature.” Each word was punctuated with an attack, “That’s not what you call a man.”

Rolling away, Tanjirou managed to put some distance between them.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’d like to know what you are doing.” The other seemed to have calmed slightly.

“What are you talking about?” Tanjirou gestured with his sword, as if it wasn’t clear enough, “I’m training!”

A brittle laugh came out of the other, and Tanjirou had the faintest impression that the other was more amused than he let on, his small laugh tittering into a smile heard from his next words.

“Sure. Training.” His posture seemed to be a condescending one, despite the amusement. “You haven’t mastered a single thing. I can tell that much just from the little scuffle we had.”

Indignant, Tanjirou stuttered, “what? You have a wooden sword! I have a real-“

“Oh, that’s funny. Thanks for worrying about me, but you actually think you’ll injure me?”

The man dashed at Tanjirou again, his sword swinging low and knocking Tanjirou off his feet. His words were quickly proven correct to Tanjirou’s embarrassment, as Tanjirou was held at sword point. “What about your Total Concentration Breathing? Water Breathing? All you did was memorize it as fact! What the hell were you doing the whole year and a half?!”

“I’m trying! I’ve been trying every day!” Tanjirou’s frustration spilling out, “I just can’t go any further!”

His words didn’t seem to deter the other man.

“Go further then, if you’re a man!”

With that, the salmon-haired swordsman flipped the wooden sword and drove it straight to Tanjirou’s head, knocking him out.

Tanjirou could have sworn it looked like a sun’s ray, striking straight down on him. It was oddly beautiful.

* * *

When Tanjirou woke up, his first thought was the sun’s ray that struck his head. _That could have sliced the boulder._

He glanced around to see if the man was still there, but his eye caught a smaller female figure instead.

He pushed himself up quickly, asking enthusiastically, “Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT? That was beautiful! I want to be like him!”

The girl gave a soft smile, “I’m sure you will.” Her eyes glinted in the moonlight.

The dark forest that gave way to the night sky seemed ominous, but there was something about the female that let him be at ease.

“Who are you?”

The girl looked at him, as if to say he already knew the answer, but she answered anyway.

“I’m Makomo, and the one you met earlier is Sabito. I’ll be looking over you now.”

* * *

That was the only time she offered information about herself as an introduction, and following that, everything she said after were solely remarks on his habits and movements as he fought.

But, as Tanjirou noted, one thing she said stood out amongst the rest. “Each weapon has its own advantage. The katana, slightly curved, offers a mid-range advantage, but you will need sharper movements to accommodate for close contact. The arrow, easily breakable if force is applied on the outsides, but invincible cutting through anything straight ahead. You can always learn from other weapons, so learn from the arrow.”

It seemed to be advice specifically for cutting through something impenetrable – _cutting through the boulder_. But she continued with her advice, now encouragement, and while it appeared to have nothing to do with what she just said, her aroma continued with the wistful scent she adapted from the previous advice.

“Mr. Urokodaki is like family to Sabito and I. There are other children besides us, and we’ve always been watching you.”

Tanjirou couldn’t help but note that it was her form of encouragement and support, despite the eerily wistful aroma she adapted.

He had sent her a gracious smile at the words of advice and support, and his mind echoed the same advice now.

Learn from the arrow. _Invincible cutting through straight ahead_.

Tanjirou closed his eyes, mist releasing out, as he concentrated on his Total Concentration Breathing. His eyes locked on to Sabito three steps away from him, with a real steel sword clutched in his hands.

As soon as their gazes locked on to each other, Tanjirou raced forward, taking advantage of his concentration and focused breathing. Water particles seemed to have frozen in the air at this very moment. He was only half a step faster than Sabito himself, _but it was enough._

The tip of his sword touched the mask.

_It was finally enough._

The sharp blade glided down the white fox mask, cleanly splitting it in two.

It was then that Tanjirou’s eyes widened.

_You…_

Sabito paused in his steps before he gave a small grin.

_You seem sad… and relieved. Why?_

Makomo smiled on the sidelines as well.

_Makomo, you too…_

“Tanjirou, you did well.” She softly said, “don’t forget what you just did.”

_Wait…_

“Win, okay, Tanjirou? Beat that guy too.”

_Wait…!_

“Do it for us,” her voice whispered.

_Next I knew, Sabito was gone. Makomo was gone._

_And my sword… which I was sure cut through Sabito’s mask… had sliced the boulder._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taisho Secret! (Greek Vocabulary and Concepts Ed. [specific to the PJO Universe])
> 
> Tanjirou's powers (an elaboration): while Tanjirou can heal physical wounds with water, it's uncertain whether water can help mental or spiritual injuries. So, he tried to ask Poseidon to heal his sister, but the water didn't move or react at all. He wasn't even acknowledged, and that's what hurt.
> 
> Sabito and Makomo... I wonder, who are you two? (If you're familiar with the PJO universe, I'm sure you can see what's actually happening here. And there'll be a proper vocabulary list with them in a future chapter.)


	4. Tanjirou 4: The Power of Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mr. Urokodaki, who are you?"
> 
> ...
> 
> "Names have power, Tanjirou."
> 
> Tanjirou dreams of a black-haired boy with a yellow haori, and a half-creature, half-man chasing him in the woods. Then, he dreams of a dark void, with no end in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to address the fact that Tanjirou’s ENTIRE family died (aside from Nezuko), and that is serious trauma. Here’s some parental Urokodaki and the beginnings of canon divergence! (Plus. Dreams. Because I’m going to use “dreams” in the PJO!Universe to my full advantage when the sleepy thunder boi is next on the list of chapters!)
> 
> An EXTRA long chapter (like triple the length) for Tanjirou’s last chapter before we switch over to Zenitsu and Inosuke! Enjoy!

_Next I knew, Sabito was gone. Makomo was gone._

_And my sword… which I was sure cut through Sabito’s mask… had sliced the boulder._

* * *

Tanjirou’s grip on his sword loosened, a wave of shock travelling from the very tip of his sword, down his fingers, into his limbs and washing over his body.

_How the hell did I…_

He glanced up at the boulder, to where Sabito first appeared, and he swore he could still see the lingering grin that Sabito had wore after Tanjirou had cut the boulder, despite Sabito being nowhere to be seen.

Sabito’s smirk burned in his mind.

_I finally did it. Six months of fruitless effort in slicing the border… and the one time I finally did it – I don’t even know how I did it._

Then, his gaze settled on his sword, and something clicked. He spotted the remains of the opening thread he had cut, connected to Sabito before – to the boulder before. _The reason I won… was because I learned to detect the scent of the opening thread. The thread was connected from my blade to the opponent’s opening, growing taut the instant I saw it. Then, my blade was drawn toward it with great force, and I slashed the opening._

The thread had glinted, reflecting in the ripples of water that released as Tanjirou’s sword glided down Sabito’s mask. The very same ripples that burst out of him from Tanjirou’s determination to win, to overcome, and to be _enough_.

And maybe, just maybe, it was enough now. Maybe he was enough to protect those he loved. Maybe he was enough to protect Nezuko…

_Even if his father left and his family died and-_

A hand settled on his shoulder and pulled Tanjirou from his thoughts. _Mr. Urokodaki. That’s the scent of Mr. Urokodaki._

_If Tanjirou smelled like winding creeks and narrow streams, and Poseidon smelled like the vast stormy waves of an ocean at times and warm beaches at other times, then Mr. Urokodaki was right in between, the aroma of larger rivers and fjords that join these creeks to the oceans, the bays that join the beaches to the waters, the connection._

_It filled him with comfort, filling the hole that was left in him when his father left his mom and brothers and sisters to fend for themselves. That was Mr. Urokodaki._

Tanjirou turned around and settled his gaze upon the former.

Mr. Urokodaki stood behind him, staring back, tengu mask in place.

“I had no intentions of sending you to the Final Selection.”

With a start, words of protest were about to spring from Tanjirou’s lips when the man continued.

“I didn’t want to see any more of my children die.”

The protest died in his tongue, and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Dry. Unable to say anything.

“I was sure you wouldn’t be able to slice this boulder, but–” Mr. Urokodaki then took a step towards Tanjirou, hand settling in the dark burgundy locks of Tanjirou’s, and said, “– Well done, my boy.”

As soon as Mr. Urokdaki’s hand settled in his hair, Tanjirou could already feel tears gathering unwillingly in his eyes.

He worked so hard, so many _fruitless_ swings, slashes and slices. So much _wasted_ time. So many _futile_ attempts.

_Was it finally enough?_

Tears glistened in his eyes and threatened to fall.

And fall they did. There wasn’t anything holding them back, when Mr. Urokodaki spoke warm words and his aroma rapidly curled around Tanjirou, the scent of waves coiling themselves around Tanjirou – protecting him from the horrors to come.

The tears flowed freely down his cheeks and Tanjirou could almost hear the regret and fear of Mr. Urokodaki letting him go in to the dangers of the outside world alone, sending him to the Final Selection, with the possibility that he wasn’t ever going to come back.

Wishing to protect him from any harm, sheltering him from others.

This was what he wanted when he saw his family lying dead, blood steadily dripping from the counters and pooling on the tatami floors – where it was supposed to be the safest haven, his home.

His guilt and anger at how it was most likely his fault.

His fault because he left the house. His fault because the saturated scents of multiple demigod children, without any protection, was enough to lure and grab every monsters’ attentions.

Although they weren’t teenagers yet – because when you’re a teenage demigod, the monsters can smell you instantly – the sheer amount of demigod children – of Poseidon, one of the Big Three, of all gods – was an overwhelming scent.

It was like a distress beacon to any kind of monster in the entire region.

And Tanjirou, being the idiot he was, just straight-up left his family without any protection, thinking it was okay to simply go down the mountain and grab some firewood. Thought it was okay to leave his family unarmed, unprepared and unaware.

Tanjirou went down the mountain, with the only protection that his father left behind – the hanafuda earrings.

And when he came back, they were all _dead_.

_They were murdered._

This, all this, he cried to Mr. Urokodaki.

All this emotion and anguish, he was able to set free.

Finally.

Finally, he was allowed to rest and cry it away. He didn’t have to be the oldest son in the family anymore, the older brother – who was needed, who couldn’t afford to _not_ be enough.

In the engulfing embrace of the ocean scent, it was okay to stop.

* * *

Tanjirou wasn’t aware of how long he stayed in that position, but when Mr. Urokodaki’s hand lifted from the firm grasp on his shoulder, everything started moving again.

His feet stumbled over each other as he followed Mr. Urokodaki down the mountain path.

His hands fumbled opening the sliding doors into the small hut.

And his stomach lurched as the scent of a feast in front of him. Nonetheless, he held down the nausea as his chopsticks moved towards the fish.

His words tumbled out with a wobble, “What’s the occasion…? There’s so much.” But Mr. Urokodaki seemingly ignored the stumble and Tanjirou was all the more grateful for that.

“You’ve completed all your training, so we’re celebrating.” Mr. Urokodaki stated matter-of-factly and pushes a bowl of vegetables closer to Tanjirou, “Eat up, don’t be shy.”

Chopsticks hovering, still slightly trembling, Tanjirou murmured a quiet “thank you,” before Mr. Urokodaki continued to speak.

“Tanjirou,” he said, “there’s nothing more I can do for you. From here on out, you’ll be going through such hardship and strife. Your training will seem like nothing in comparison.”

Mr. Urokodaki paused for a moment, gaze seemingly looking through Tanjirou and peering somewhere far past him. Tanjirou wondered briefly what he was seeing, as the only thing in that direction was a small lake. How befitting, he thought.

“For now, at least, you should rest well without a care in the world.” Mr. Urokodaki’s gaze settled back on him once more. “Did you enjoy the hot pot?”

Hurriedly, Tanjirou nodded, “Yes! I haven’t had such a feast in so long!”

“Good,” the man replied, “A growing boy like you with a hearty appetite should get stronger the more he eats, as well as grow bigger in size…”

“… but that goes for kakodaimons, too.”

Tanjirou froze, chopsticks leaning on the bowl of rice in front of him, still holding a piece of meat. He slowly settled the food in to the bowl.

The black eyes of the tengu mask seemed to pierce Tanjirou’s soul, “A kakodaimon is as strong as the number of humans he’s devoured.”

The fish on his tongue suddenly didn’t seem that appetizing as he swallowed, and Tanjirou’s mouth became dry once more, “So… the more they eat, the stronger they get?”

“That’s right. There are kakodaimons who gain power, become able to transform their bodies, and even use strange spells. And there are some,” Mr. Urokodaki paused, “who hold power that gods even fear.”

… _Gods? Like-_

“But when your sense of smell gets keener, you’ll be able to tell how many humans a kakodaimon has consumed.”

Mr. Urokodaki reached behind him to grab a fox mask, that was eerily familiar to the ones that Sabito and Makomo had worn.

Before he could hand it to Tanjirou however, Tanjirou quickly raised a hand.

“Wait, wait,” Tanjirou quickly said, “Gods? Like who?” His last words turned to a whisper, afraid for the answer, and he could feel cold sweat gather in his palms.

Mr. Urokodaki paused and then answered, “Names have power, Tanjirou. That’s the first lesson to remember.” But a knowing gaze from Mr. Urokodaki answered the question he had. _He knew._

_And of course he did. “I know you miss your connection to the sea.” Mr. Urokodaki had said. And… if that’s the case, then… who is he? Who are you, Mr. Urokodaki–_

A mask was placed in Tanjirou’s hands.

“It’s a warding mask.” Mr. Urokodaki continued, as if Tanjirou had not asked anything. “I’ve charged it with magic to protect you from harm.”

Tanjirou gently lifted the mask to eye view, and his fingers trailed the stripes on the mask. The mask thrummed with a familiar energy, like with the hanafuda earrings currently in his ears.

His fingers tingled where they touched the mask.

Tanjirou lifted his gaze to settle upon the old man across from him. Energy hummed in the surroundings, waves crashing on to the shore as a symphony in his ears, swallowing every other sound. His next words hung in the air.

“Mr. Urokodaki, who are you?”

A tense silence followed.

But, as if expecting that question, Mr. Urokodaki repeated the same line, with no change in tone,

“Names have power, Tanjirou.”

* * *

_“Names have power, Tanjirou.”_

Tanjirou quietly laid on his futon, head snugly settled into the pillow behind him, his thoughts still lingering on those last words that Mr. Urokodaki had said.

_Names have power… huh._

_…_

_So if names have power, then… why didn’t Poseidon appear every night his brothers and sisters cried his name since he disappeared without a trace?_

_…_

_Why didn’t he come when Tanjirou begged for his help for Nezuko…?_

_…_

_If names truly had power, why was Tanjirou alone?_

_..._

_Names… have… power…_

_…_

_Poseidon…_

* * *

Tanjirou’s eyes snapped open, after realizing they had closed in thought.

_Was it already the next day? Was the Final Selection finally upon him?_

_…_

… Something wasn’t right. Mr. Urokodaki’s ceiling definitely wasn’t that colour.

… but something wasn’t wrong either.

Everything still smelled the same.

He slowly turned to look around at the unfamiliar setting around him.

A small room with tatami mats and three small desks, one shoved into the corner, neglected…

The scent of the sea was wafting comfortably through the air, with a tinge of bitter, like the smell of burnt rubber welcomed him into the room.

Clearly, there used to be three occupants living here, but perhaps one of them left – the desk in the corner coated thicker with the burnt scent than anywhere else.

Tanjirou slowly pushed himself out of his futon, and his feet landed on the wooden floor with a small thunk.

Strangely, there was no feeling of terror or uncertainty in this unfamiliar place.

Despite the new surroundings, strangely, he was calm.

His feet treaded lightly across the room, a warm tug at the bottom of his stomach inviting him closer. His fingers moved to slide the door open, and as he did, a scream caught his attention.

The surroundings suddenly warped and took on a darker tone, a foreboding darkness floating at the edges of his vision. Darkness creeped in to the corners of the room, shadows slowly extending and collapsing, and Tanjirou found himself standing in one of the only few spots in the light of the doorway, the only way outside, outside of the crawling shadows reaching for him.

Tanjirou quickly stumbled out of the doorway, dodging the darkness that clawed at him, heart thundering and sweat accumulating.

Another scream caught his attention, and the source of the scream appeared.

It seemed to be a boy around his age, with black hair, shouting as a rope strangled his neck. At the other end of the rope is an old man – no wait, a demonic creature – wait no, an old man again.

The scene kept flickering and warping the characters to different people – but the young boy in the yellow haori and the short white-haired man appeared the most in the scene.

The boy shouted from a hole in the ground, “Help me! There’s a hole!”

Tanjirou rushed forward to help, but the further he ran towards him, the further away the boy and the man appeared.

The old man pulled harder at the rope.

“I twisted my ankle!” the black-haired boy yelled again, but this time, the yell flicked between a scream of agony and a childish whine.

Chills ran up Tanjirou’s spine, but through his struggles, Tanjirou could also see the hole was in reality very shallow. Tanjirou couldn’t help the face of confusion and judgement when he realized the hole was only half a metre deep.

As if sensing Tanjirou’s judgement, the boy’s gaze settled upon him, but appeared to see through him. The black-haired male didn’t seem to see him as he turned back almost immediately to the elder man, shouting “Gramps! I –“

_Gramps…?_

Tanjirou’s surroundings blurred again, and he quickly lost his footing. The next thing he saw was that he was carefully balanced on a branch. His hands sought the tree trunk for balance, swiftly noting that he was only a few metres away from the ground.

His observations were quickly stopped by a nearby yell, that seemed to be coming closer and closer.

Instead of the whiny yell from earlier, it sounded very animalistic. A yell of pure animal instinct, and it was coming right towards him.

“Who’s there?!” came the yell. “Who is trespassing in the land of the King of the Mountain?!”

Instantly realizing he would likely be seen, Tanjirou hurriedly swung down to the ground to find better covering.

As his feet touched the ground, he smelled the incoming animal before he could even see them. The wisps of darkness intensified from the shadows by the trees and flora, and the thundering steps of the incoming animal eerily reminded him of hellhounds chasing after their prey.

“Oh crap,” he skidded around another tree to hide, and it was just in time because not a second later, a person came in to view.

Or… was it a person? The shadows kept warping his appearance, but Tanjirou was sure it was a half-creature, half-man. Half-boar? Half-hellhound, even, because the shadows seemed plenty willing to reinforce that image in Tanjirou’s mind.

Fear curled in the bottom of his stomach, and Tanjirou’s fingers sought the tree trunk behind him as comfort.

“Come out and fight, you coward!” the figure swung two swords around, “Where the hell are you?”

There was a tinge of loneliness in the creature’s voice, and despite the incoming doom, Tanjirou couldn’t help but loosen his grip on the tree behind him, ready to greet the creature. A crunch in the leaves on the ground behind the tree seemed to signal that the half-man, half-creature had crouched down.

But then, the figure behind the tree became eerily silent, and Tanjirou could smell his own fear skyrocket.

“… Found you!”

Just as the hands reached around the tree for him, the shadow of the tree swallowed him whole, and Tanjirou could no longer see anything in front of him.

Only black.

Just black.

Black.

…

A whisper came.

 _“Oh, poor child,”_ a sleepy voice murmured into his left ear, _“your family murdered, your father abandoned you…”_

Startled, Tanjirou jolted away to the right and crashed in to a solid wall in the darkness.

“Who are you?!” he shouted into the void.

A rumbling in the wall he was leaning on caused Tanjirou to jump back. It was the sound of chuckling, twisted amusement shown clearly in the reverberating of the walls.

Tanjirou could hear a long-winded, but quiet, chuckle echo in the darkness he was in. It seemed like eternity before the chuckle ended.

_“Poor child… the Fates have done you wrong.”_

Tanjirou’s hands found safety in his cloudy-patterned haori, given to him just hours ago, before he was engulfed in this dream-like space. The space smelled like nothing, just as cold, dark, and empty as the darkness in the night.

A presence grew stronger on the right, moving slowly around Tanjirou, with a heavy pressure, like a gaze in to Tanjirou’s soul.

_“Impressive.”_

Chills rushed down his spine at a simple word.

 _“You have grown well, young hero…”_ the voice waited as his trepidation grew _, “but my children are stronger.”_

A foreboding dread that started when Tanjirou first entered this dark void grew sharper by the second. His breath coming out quickly, but softly, wary of interrupting the other.

_“Join me.”_

_“Join me, and you will have a family. The one you yearned.”_

_‘What…’_ Tanjirou wanted to whisper, but his breath was held back in silent shock and hesitant hope. _‘What do you mean…? I can have them back?’_

The voice repeated on, _“The one you yearned. I can bring them all back. Just like your sister. Don’t you want them back?”_ It paused enticingly, _“All you have to do… is join me.”_

“N-no…” Tanjirou tried to force the word out, but it kept getting stuck in his throat _, ‘My sister…? As in, as a kakodaimon? She- that was you? That was you?!’_

Oblivious to Tanjirou’s inner turmoil, it continued _, “Go against the gods… and fight with my children, your siblings as well.”_

“No…!” Tanjirou tried again, louder this time, his legs visibly trembling in fear. “That’s not what I want!”

The pressure in the blackness slowly intensified, as if trying to comprehend his refusal. The pressure increased, and Tanjirou could feel the sheer heaviness in its surroundings.

_“Poor hero… you think you can stop me? My children grow stronger by the minute, the night is their natural terrain.”_

The voice continued in a deep murmur, _“Join me…”_

“N-no!” Gathering his breath, Tanjirou shouted back into the void, “I will never join you!”

The void threatened to suffocate him, and it felt like he was drowning, betrayed by the very element he grew up to find comfort in. Tanjirou couldn’t tell if the salty scent of the oceans was a figment of his imagination or growing stronger in reality. But it soon became obvious that the salty scent did grow stronger in the void of space, overwhelming the utter silence of the vacuum of scents there.

“ _Silly child… you’ll find that you can not avoid me forever.”_

All of a sudden, something grabbed his haori and pulled him abruptly out of the darkness and the suffocating void, and suddenly, he was aware of the secured fox mask on his head. When did he put that on?

The next thing he knew, his feet were on a lakeside dock. The sheer sudden duality of where Tanjirou was just now, and where he arrived at, disoriented him. But, he came to realize there was one thing that grounded him.

A salty scent.

A familiar figure right next to him.

A familiar figure on the wooden dock, broad back and long black hair, tied in a ponytail, just like-

_“Dad…”_

“Hello, Tanjirou.”

* * *

He woke up with a gasp, words echoing in his mind.

Tanjirou flung himself out of the futon, mind still half-lingering in the dream he just had. He stumbled out of the hut and into the sunlight. _A demigod dream… of course. They are twisted, convoluted, and sometimes horrifying, but…_

He saw his father.

_Poseidon…_

At last.

_Names have power, huh._

_…_

_And what he said… He said…_

_…_

_Wait. What did he say?_

Something important. He said something _very_ important. In a frazzled state, very much unlike his usual self, Tanjirou grasped his hair in one hand, frustrated.

_Why can’t I remember?_

_What did he say?_

_It was a… he said… he said something like… children of the sea… restore her hearth? Dearth–?_

In his haste, Tanjirou glanced up to barely avoid crashing into Mr. Urokodaki’s broad back, who stood on the lakeside shore, a small distance from the hut. How did he get there?

“Urokodaki-san!” Tanjirou greeted, stuttering. His thoughts were rapidly fading.

But, perhaps, that’s not what the Fates had planned.

The next words from Mr. Urokodaki brought back his thoughts instantly.

“Tanjirou… you must restore her dearth.” Urokodaki said, not facing Tanjirou.

In a whisper-like voice tainted with the ancientness as old as the gods themselves, Mr. Urokodaki murmured, “ _Children of the sea, restore her dearth…”_

Tanjirou had to strain his ears to hear it, but immediately, the words collided into ones he heard before.

_“Hear the voice of thunder and find his worth.”_

Belatedly, he realized that his nose caught on to a melancholy scent underlying Mr. Urokodaki’s speech.

_“Discarding his pride, the beast shall learn…”_

Tanjirou muttered along with the whisper-like tone, familiar with the verse.

_“… To liberate the woe or the world shall burn.”_

The words echoed across the lake, fading into the shallow waves.

“Urokodaki-san…” Tanjirou softly said, as if too much noise would break the air in between them, “… what was that?”

A calm, but tense, silence reigned in the air.

“Tanjirou, my boy.” Urokodaki stressed, “that. That was a prophecy. And I have reason to believe you are an essential part of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taisho Secret! (Greek Vocabulary and Concepts Ed. [Specific to the PJO Universe])
> 
> The Fates: also known as The Moirai, three embodiments of fate or destiny – they’re OP, and they control the thread of life of every living being, even gods. Even in the PJO universe, their origins are contested – they were either children of Zeus or Nyx (Protogenos/primordial goddess of Night). They were seen by Percy in the PJO universe as elderly ladies, knitting the string of fate. They are able to fight as well and can decree prophecies.
> 
> Prophecies: predictions of the future that can appear in many forms, but always cryptic. Tellers of the future cannot reveal what happens, because if they do, then the events may change. Attempting to figure out a prophecy or forcing it to come true also may result in disaster. They usually rhyme, but also is not a requirement, as Mars (Roman god of war) has given one without rhymes before. Prophecies is under Apollo, the god of the sun, music, and prophecies (among others).
> 
> Demigods and their scents: In the Percy Jackson universe, demigods have a strong scent to all monsters, especially when they become a teenager. Typically, they would be brought to a demigod (summer) camp, that protects them from monsters – by satyrs. (… This does not happen in this fic.)
> 
> Demigod Dreams: they are weird, and confusing, and often times than not, people can sense you watching them in your dreams. Certain beings can also go in to dreams and ~~haunt~~ talk to you. Dreams are under the jurisdiction of Morpheus, the god of dreams, and his father, Hypnos, the god of sleep.
> 
> And lastly, names have power. This is incredibly important in the PJO universe, because the moment you utter a name, it’s most likely not going to turn out well for you. You caught someone’s attention.
> 
> (Also, Zenitsu’s moment in this chapter is actually canon in Chapter 145 of the manga lol)


	5. Zenitsu 1: Delusions to be Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it a dream or a delusion? Zenitsu doesn't know, but he doesn't try to figure it out anyway. After all, they're both not real. 
> 
> Not even the jovial laughter of a pair of siblings and small chatter of a reckless boy and his loving mother. Timeless moments captured in untold stories. A whispering dream of a better world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When dreams and fates are such an important part of the PJO universe, you know Zenitsu is going to have his own fun times in them.
> 
> In other words, alright, Zenitsu’s POV Chapter 1. Canon divergence is ready, and it is time to delve in.

_I am strong and happy._

The thought crept in to Zenitsu’s mind much like the way thunder clouds crept across the darkening sky, awaiting the raindrops to fall and shadowing the training fields where he laid. The world stilled and yet the air trembled in wake of anticipation and agitation. Crows raced past for shelter, and if he closed his eyes and fixated his hearing past the cawing of the birds, he could hear jovial laughter of a pair of siblings and small chatter of a reckless boy and his loving mother. Timeless moments captured in untold stories. A whispering dream of a better world.

It was hilarious how it was so easy to fool yourself in to being something you’re not. A dream, or a delusion, some might say, that will never be achieved. Just like how the clouds rolled in silently – a calm before the storm, or how the crows flew across – croaking and crying amidst the silence... they blended in like any other thought, trailing behind small traces of unease.

Were you sincerely happy?

Were you truly strong?

_Did you want to live in this delusion forever?_

…

The world was so loud outside – _too loud_ , raindrops tearing through the air, sounds of all sorts crying for help. Screams and yells. Demands and attacks. Clawing and chewing. Humans and demons. They were all so loud. Too loud.

In contrast, inside, an unnerving quietness. A tranquility that was neither sought nor favoured by Zenitsu, but at the very least it wasn’t overwhelming nor demanding.

Thunderous and booming. The very things that Zenitsu hated and ignored with every fibre of his being.

Because it simply wasn’t true; he was neither of those things – thunderous nor booming. Strong nor happy.

_He couldn’t be._

No.

It was all just a delusion.

His grip tightened around the sword to his right, just as the first arcs of lightning struck down to the earth in the distance. It was getting louder. The quietness of his mind did nothing to stop the sounds from invading. It was getting unbearable.

His eyes struggled to open, dampening grass soaking his haori and rain splattering on his body. His ears were ringing with incoming thunder and another lightning strike ever closer.

As other senses came rushing back in, Zenitsu’s eyes opened and the ringing faded. He slowly sat up and pushed himself off the wet field. His clothes were soaking and heavy with the rain, and his feet dragged across the mud towards the small hut with a waiting grandfather and an empty seat.

“Zenitsu, get back here! You’re going to get sick!” came the shout from the distance, overshadowing the booming thunder behind him.

For a second, Zenitsu turned to look at the lightning arc that struck down to the earth just a few metres away. His gaze lingered, until the thunder rumbled and boomed, as if demanding him to come back.

 _“Come, son of Zeus,”_ it seemed to say.

With bitterness, he turned back towards the shout from the hut and ran.

_I am strong and happy._

A thought for another time. Another dream. Another delusion.

* * *

“Zenitsu, get up!”

“No!”

“Zenitsu!”

“No- ah!” His voice cut off from a tug from the rope around his neck. “Gramps, stop!”

The fraying and scratching of the rope around his neck sounded louder than anything, but he could almost hear the huffing of his adoptive grandfather behind him. Strangely, there was also a light buzzing that sounded a distance away, like the buzzing of a bug, but more disorienting.

“Help me! There’s a hole!”

Jigoro tugged harder at the rope in response. “Zenitsu, get out of the hole!”

“I twisted my ankle!” Zenitsu yelped out, blood rushing to his head and feet scrambling. Over the sound of blood rushing and rope scratching, the buzzing noise sounded closer than ever.

As Jigoro yanked on the rope, Zenitsu clawed towards the opposite edge of the ditch that he was in, trying to escape. His ankle flared slightly, but the buzz distracted him further, and he glanced over at the field, the direction of where the sound was calling from.

To his disappointment, there was nothing there to be seen despite the sound growing nearer, and Jigoro pulled harder at the rope at his inaction.

“Gramps, I –“ his voice cut off suddenly as the sound suddenly disappeared as abrupt as it had started. Zenitsu quickly shook it off, because, clearly, nothing was there. Just a figment of his imagination. He cleared his throat, “I really did twist my ankle.”

“You can rest your ankle later. Now, get back here!”

Reluctantly, he crawled back towards the scowling elder.

“Alright, first form again, from here to that tree.” Jigoro gestured towards the Japanese maple a few metres away, loosening his grip on the rope.

“What- that’s so far! What about my ankle?!”

“Fifty times.”

“No! Gramps!”

“A hundred times.”

With a groan, Zenitsu pulled himself out of the ditch with the offered hand. Zenitsu spared one final glance back in the direction before hauling himself out and sliding into his stance. Well, at least it’s not like Gramps expected much out of him. He couldn’t even do the first form properly anyway.

He let out a whimper, “But my ankle…”, while clutching his sword and readying his form.

* * *

The next time the buzzing sound was heard again, it was later that night. Zenitsu’s eyes had shot open the moment he heard it, just as he had drifted into unconsciousness, tucked in his futon.

The sound crept in to his mind much like the way the thunder clouds crept across the dimming sky, in anticipation for the raindrops to fall. He was laying on the training fields again.

The rumbling from the distant skies was familiar and served as a background noise, an intro to the upcoming symphony. A drumroll perhaps, awaiting the start of a song.

Soon enough, shadowy wisps appeared at the edge of the horizon, and an accompanying yell to their arrival became the melody. The buzzing noise grew sharper.

“Hey, Zenitsu, Nezuko is waiting for us!” They floated closer.

Unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar names, but despite that all, Zenitsu was strangely calm. He smiled. The voice, although slightly blurred, brought waves of warmth and comfort to him.

The rain had begun as well, and Zenitsu looked back up to the sky, in no hurry to answer. A dream. This had to be a dream. Zenitsu dreamt a lot and he knew what dreaming felt like. _Yet despite that_ , he smiled bitterly, _it felt less like a dream than all the others._ It was a dream where he didn’t need to be strong, and where he had friends looking out for him. But ultimately, it was just that – a dream. A delusion.

In his musing, the shadowy wisps had drifted to him, the buzzing noise grew as loud as it had earlier this morning.

One bent down and offered his hand as an invitation to join them. A wide smile was stretched on their face. “Come on, get up, Zenitsu.”

Zenitsu stared at them but didn’t move any further. He was in no hurry. The buzzing noise was ever present, but the longer the shadow stayed there, the louder the noise got. No longer a harmony to the voice that had called before, it became dissonant.

The longer the hand hovered there, the more he didn’t want to take it.

Weariness dug deep into his bones. Something told him not to.

_None of this was real anyway._

“What if I don’t want to get up?” instead he asked, as he looked away, towards the thunder clouds looming above him.

There was no answer.

Zenitsu looked back, expecting the shadows to be there, waiting still.

Instead, there was no voice or buzz or shadows.

There was nobody.

The message was clear.

_Then don’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taisho Secret! (Greek Vocabulary and Concepts Ed. [Specific to the PJO Universe])
> 
> Zeus: lord of the sky, god of lightning, kingship, justice. King of Olympus, one of the Big Three. Has mainly godly children, and uses a lightning bolt as a weapon (which cannot be wielded by a mortal). (In the PJO universe however, to lightly put it, he's rather stubborn and tends to hold grudges, while demanding to be respected.)
> 
> Alright! Let's welcome Zenitsu to the fray! In any case, thank you for reading and feel free to give any comments, constructive criticisms, what you may have liked, and I look forward to seeing you all in the next chapter.


	6. Zenitsu 2: Stories to be Told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll receive no more help from us.” She states, as if Zenitsu has been getting help from some unknown being in the first place.
> 
> “Your struggles are yet to come, little one, and oaths were apparently made to be broken in this life.” There is certain disgust in her voice, that Zenitsu notes.
> 
> In other words...
> 
> Zenitsu finds himself in the odd position of not knowing whether this woman, who's idly holding a book at this strange library, wants to kill him or help him. But Zenitsu feels like he's going to get vapourized any second, if he so much as looks at her the wrong way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Zenitsu POV Chapter 2 - still in his dreams. Thank you to everyone who has kudo'ed, commented, bookmarked and/or subscribed to the story! I sincerely appreciate it and I hope all of you know that it's what keeps me going, so thank you again. I hope you all have a wonderful week ahead!

He wakes up.

Or… he think he does.

It’s dark where he is and he can only assume it’s still nighttime. His hands scramble to reach for the bedside lantern, but nothing is within his reach. That’s strange.

_Gods… it hurts._

_Where am I? Why is it so dark?_

“Boy, get up.”

Zenitsu lurches forward, his eyes flicking open at the command. His fingers tingle and his body shakes, whether it was from the thrum in the air, or the lightning beneath his eyes, he would never be sure, but the sight that greets him left his limbs too numb to move.

“W-w-wha-“

“Pick your jaw up off the ground. We don’t have much time.”

The voice comes from a woman, standing next to infinite books and bookshelves, a finger trailing down the spine of a checkered green and black book cover. An ethereal and strangely familial aura flows from her and the book in her hands also thrums warmly. Her thoughts hum in the air and Zenitsu is tempted to listen in. So, so tempted, but his instincts tell him to stop. Do NOT.

It speaks of an instant death – that, if he tried to listen, he would be instantly vapourized so that not even little Zenitsu bits would be left. He would rather live this small humble life, thank you very much, as shitty as it is.

The woman gives a thoughtful hum, and the sound tingles down Zenitsu’s spine as she pulls out a bright yellow book. The book itself looks like a bright children’s story, but the covers are slightly bent at the edges, only indicating slight fraying and wear. In contrast to the checkered book earlier, this book has a few rumpled pages and looks like a quick read rather than extensively used like the other book.

“Your father has ordered that we are not to interfere any longer. He always was a stubborn fool.” She has her finger brushing the corner of the yellow book, and Zenitsu’s thoughts turn sideways – why is she so interested in that book? He doesn’t know why but he wants her to _put it back. Now_. He feels exposed with the book gently held in her hands, and _he doesn’t know why._

Gods, he feels helpless, and it hurts to his very core. His power is stripped, and his confidence is nothing before this woman. His mind barely registers her words, as if her words were something unreal that he never wants to acknowledge again.

“My father?” he murmurs, in a weak attempt to distract from the book she held.

“Hmm…”

He gathers his remaining threads of confidence and shakily mutters, “P-please put that down.”

Her gaze turns and settles upon him, “Child, do you know who you are speaking to?”

He quickly shakes his head. The air is vibrating precariously, and he thinks he has offended her in some way. He’s frozen to the core.

It’s a tense moment, as she stares without another word at him.

If his feet felt like jelly before, he certainly feels nothing now. Whoever this woman is, she's too powerful. It feels like millennia, but her gaze drops from him on to the book she held. A tight smile stretches across her face, and it feels off. Unnatural. Disturbing. Zenitsu doesn’t dare say that though.

“An ignorant child he raised.” She idly comments. Her tone is lilted with disdain, and Zenitsu feels slightly offended, even if it may have been true.

She puts the book on a lower shelf, empty of other novels. She speaks again, and Zenitsu can’t help but let out an unsteady breath. The intense scrutiny he feels earlier remains, but the moment her fingers left the book, his fingers lessen in its trembles.

“I’ll only say this once, and only once, because your meddling patron has made it more troublesome for me.” She tips the checkered book from before out of the bookshelf, and Zenitsu idly notes that it is shelved under “K”, and the genre of Fantasy. In fact, all of the books in front of her are under Fantasy, labelled in Greek. Somehow, it all translates effortlessly in Zenitsu’s brain, and he doesn’t know quite what to make of this knowledge.

She takes the checkered book out and puts it on top of the yellow book on the bottom shelf.

“You’ll receive no more help from us.” She states, as if the dread in his stomach isn’t amassing enough.

“Your actions will determine our outcomes, but the pain you give will match the price you pay.” The edges of her mouth quirk up as if it is an inside joke. “After all, the world is comprised of equivalent exchange.”

She slides a book out that Zenitsu didn’t notice before, if only because the checkered book sheltered the smaller pink paperback. The paperback is then placed upon the two books underneath. There is something odd about the book, Zenitsu notes. Its corners are rounded in, like a diary or leather journal. He quickly realizes that it isn't a paperback, and instead it's a hardcover that disguised itself. It is the thunk of her fingers closing upon the hardness of the cover that Zenitsu has heard, instead of softer sound that would have been if it were a paperback. Did he see it wrong at first? Strangely, that disturbs him.

Her fingers tug out one final book on the left of the shelf, and it is shelved under “H”. The book cover comprises of text with a jagged font and a roughness all around the edges of the book shows its wear. It is ironic that the pages of the book are lined with silky black, contrasting the rough state.

“Your struggles are yet to come, little one, and oaths were apparently made to be broken in this life.” There is certain disgust in her voice, that Zenitsu notes.

“You will learn to let go, and you will all learn that you can’t ignore your past.” Zenitsu’s thoughts involuntarily flash to the fateful day where his life entirely flipped. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it, and he has lived his life and so far, he hasn’t needed to acknowledge it. Why would he want to admit it? That he's some child of a god? It’s impossible. Only a desperate idiot would believe that.

“That is the most important lesson you must learn first.”

_But maybe he is a desperate idiot._

“Accept your fate or we will all perish.”

 _Gods, no._ He is half-tempted to yell back in the face of fate, why him? Why does this woman have the power to tell him this? What if he wants to believe he was normal? What if… what if the moment he admits he’s not, he’ll have to acknowledge his failure as a person – as a student of Thunder Breathing. He’ll have some stupid advantage, that wipes away all his minimal success of learning the first form. Nothing that he did will have been his own doing. Nothing that he accomplished is his own strength.

Zenitsu’s thoughts spiral, and the dread in his stomach makes him cold and disgusted with himself. He can’t. He just can’t. He can’t be a demigod.

As if sensing his distress and spiralling thoughts, the goddess’s tone tilts slightly.

“Prepare yourself, young one. You have the gift of your patron, and the power of your father on your side.” Her pitch lowers, and a wistful taste appears in her sound. “I may have cursed you, but perhaps you will prove me wrong… May you win the war, demigod.”

Her voice is fading, and with a start, Zenitsu realizes the whole library is fading as well.

He feels powerless, and his eyes frantically dashed to the figure that walked away with the four books in her arms.

“Wait, why are you telling me this?!” he shouts as the scene fades away, along with his last pillar of knowledge.

She doesn’t seem to hear him, and he can only watch, as she approaches a farther section of the library.

She places the books down.

The last thing Zenitsu sees is the section she places the books in.

She places them in another genre.

_Tragedy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's skip straight to Greek Myth (PJO) concepts:
> 
> Oaths: typically sworn with the River Styx (river in the Underworld, polluted with human miseries/lost hopes/wishes), very serious because if the oath bearer doesn't fulfill their oath, there's a fate that's "worse than death."
> 
> Anyhow, wow, books as character representations. Hahaha, I'm actually not sure how I even came up with those. (Also, I've been rather inconsistent with the present/past tense between chapters, if anybody has noticed. I've been trying to experiment, to be honest, because I'm not sure which works better. Sorry if it's bothering anyone!) Also, wow. I love making the golden boy miserable. Oops.


	7. Zenitsu 3: Worlds to be Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenitsu finds out who exactly "visited" (threatened) him in his dreams, wonders if he's found a friend in a nearby village, and reminisces about the world that only he and Kaigaku sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zenitsu has some revelations here, and this chapter is also why the fic has "slow burn" in the tags. In any case, A LOT of foreshadowing is in this chapter - so if you manage to find all the clues, kudos to you! Feel free to let me know what you found in the comments haha

He woke up with a gasp, his surroundings blurring as he lurched forward into a sitting position.

This time, he noted with his shaking breath and trembling hands, he was no longer dreaming.

At least, that was what he thought. His dreams blurred into reality sometimes.

Zenitsu used to enjoy that blur – and it made him feel powerful and worthy. His confidence soared, and his abilities grew. He embraced the thunder in his veins, the winds, the storms as he zipped across the fields. Lightning crashed wherever his sword swung and he survived every battle he encountered.

Awake though, he didn’t feel so powerful.

The dream before took all that power away. His thoughts never felt more like a crumbled mess, and it left him weary.

The warning rang in his ears.

He needed to… “Accept his fate.” Accept himself. Accept the fate that was given to him the day he got struck by lightning itself.

The lightning that determined his fate.

He remembered the flash of lightning, the golden glow in his body as his so-called father claimed him as his son.

The son of the skies.

Wasn’t that a hilarious joke?

Zenitsu? Half-god? With fantasised powers? What. An. Absolute. Joke.

Who in the world would believe such a delusion?

Honestly, he didn’t really believe it himself, even with the sparks and lightning he felt occasionally beneath his skin.

What happened was that, while he was on top of a tree, an old guy touched his head and said something along the lines of _“Zenitsu, you are a demigod. Stop being a wimp and get your ass off the tree.”_

Granted, that’s not _exactly_ what the guy said. But, still… the guy then zapped and nearly killed him, and then his hair turned golden yellow the next time he woke up! Zenitsu’s pretty sure that that’s not what’s supposed to happen, right? If that was, then do other demigods nearly die too when they find their parents? Are there even other demigods out there?

His thoughts remained as he pushed himself off the bed reluctantly. The sunlight indicated that it was about time that his gramps would call him to make breakfast.

With a groan, he trudged out of his room, past the bookroom, heading towards the kitchen. As he went by the bookroom, one book caught his eye – a book that he didn’t particularly pay attention to before, not before the dream he had. One with a dusty dark cover and golden trimming that beckoned him to read it.

The omen rang fresh in his mind, and with a shake of his head, Zenitsu tried to get rid of the notions of his impending fate.

His eyes lingered briefly on the book, before Gramps’s morning shout pulled him further to the kitchen and on to the training grounds.

* * *

_Gramps! I can’t do this – this is impossible!_

_Let me goooooo – no, I don’t want to come back!_

_I really can’t do this!_

_No matter what I do, I can’t use the other forms._

_No matter what I do, I can’t use my lightning powers, if I even have any._

_No matter how I try, I’m not good enough._

_~~Gramps, I want to give up.~~ _

**_Do you remember what I said to you, Zenitsu, when you told me that you could only do the first form of Thunder Breathing and nothing else?_ **

_~~But I know I can’t.~~ _

* * *

After another hour of grumbling and yelling in training, Zenitsu found himself flopping to the ground, his robes dirtied and his limbs spread wide.

Grass tickled him underneath, as his gaze followed the clouds that lazily floated by above.

His fingers clutched a book stolen from his gramps’s small bookshelf. Amongst some fairy tales, sword technique manuals, and old medicine books, there was one thick tomb that stuck out to be unusual. The dusty dark cover attracted Zenitsu, and he had grabbed the book after changing out of his training clothes and left the house.

_Greek Mythology: An Introduction._

The book title teased him, as if it was saying: How did he not know this already? Was he an idiot?

Zenitsu could almost place the woman’s voice in the questions, mocking him.

He sighed.

His finger grazed the cover of the book. A magical thrum answered him, travelling from his fingers to his arm and up to his spine.

Zenitsu gently pulled aside the cover, and what happened next could only be explained away that the book was a living creature. The book responded quickly to his touch, pages flicking rapidly to its destination.

Zenitsu jumped, “What in the h–“ The lady’s face was staring right back at him, as the book flipped to the goddess’s introduction.

His fingers stopped right under the caption of the image.

_Hera. Queen of the Heavens._

“Oh.”

That explained a lot.

Really, it did.

After all, if he really was the son of Zeus, her… impatient and condescending tone made sense. She was the goddess of marriage, right? As Zeus’s wife and him as Zeus’s demigod son, that’s disloyalty right there! Her attitude made total sense! (Although, the whole warning and advice still didn’t really.)

And the curse she mentioned!

Maybe Zenitsu was going off a whim, but…

Was his shit luck with girls all because this almighty goddess cursed him? Is that why he kept getting turned down when he asked them to marry him? Isn’t his life enough of a fucking joke? _~~Being the goddess of family as well, can Zenitsu blame her for being abandoned as an orphan too?~~_

“That’s...” he muttered, suddenly feeling a lot more disdain and disbelief for the Queen of Heavens herself, over the awestruck terror he had in his dream.

There’s no way the Queen of the Heavens would do something that petty, right?

…

Right?

…

The sigh that left his lips sounded extremely exasperated, even more so than when he had sighed at his adopted brother’s, Kaigaku’s, antics. _Please tell me that Hera wouldn’t do such a petty thing – his life was miserable enough without it._

Zenitsu sat up reluctantly, fingering the page mindlessly, when the book decided to flip to another chapter entirely – ah, yes, the benefits of a magical book – it can read your mind. _Oh, great, it was that old guy from the tree_. _His father._

His eyes scanned the page, taking in the descriptions and abilities. The Master Bolt, huh? The single mightiest weapon in the universe probably, apparently enough to make a “mortal hydrogen bomb” look like a firecracker. What even is a hydrogen bomb? Zenitsu’s never heard of such a thing in his entire life, but to be fair, he also lived a bit farther away from the city.

There were many things that Zenitsu wasn’t aware of, which certainly included Greek gods and goddesses. He was much more familiar with Japanese deities and their rituals and offerings.

He even remembered hearing that in a nearby village upon a mountain, there was a tribute to Amaterasu – a kagura, that was performed every month for blessings from the sun goddess. Although… he did hear that there were some controversies of whether that tribute was truly for Amaterasu, or if it was actually for Susanoo instead, the god of sea and storms, because the dancer’s son or daughter was blessed by the seas with a gift of scent. Zenitsu’s not sure what that means, but either way, that village revered them as a holy child.

He shook his head, it didn’t matter too much if they were actually blessed or a sham. Who knows? Maybe… maybe they were the same as him as well?

Maybe he wasn’t alone in this mystical version of the world.

The world that others, like Gramps, didn’t quite seem to see.

Like when that hellhound chased Zenitsu when he was a child in the peach fields, and Gramps, in the small house, claimed it was only a wild boar he saw out the window.

Zenitsu knew what he saw. Kaigaku did too, as he admitted later. They definitely saw—

A hellhound.

“What the fu…” Zenitsu’s eyes widened, his gaze settled at a shadow in the distance on the farther training field.

A shadow, right at the edges of the training field, at the edge of the trees.

Zenitsu stiffened entirely.

It stood there, as if it had always been there – before its gaze lifted to meet Zenitsu’s own.

_A hellhound._

Its gaze locked on to Zenitsu – bright red eyes glinting in the far distance.

He scrambled to his feet, one hand clutching the book and the other gripping his training sword hilt. He doesn’t even know which way he wanted to sprint – away from it or towards it.

After a few seconds, the hellhound seems to have made its choice in his stead, eyes piercing into his soul.

It growled impatiently, head jerking to the right, before it was swallowed by the shadows underneath it.

Zenitsu staggered a step towards the vanished shadow before pausing.

_Did it… Did it want him to follow?_

_The growl wasn’t threatening. It was like… telling him to hurry up._

_That there was something out there, waiting for him._

_Someone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greek Mythology Concepts!
> 
> Hera: Queen of the Heavens, goddess of marriage, family, motherhood and women. Has aerokinesis and madness induction as powers, often enters dreams as well. Wife of Zeus, often depicted as a fierce and prideful goddess, vengeful and forthright when any of what she governs is violated – i.e. faithful marriages or closeknit families. This is prominent in the PJO series, when Zeus is unfaithful, or when she personally involves herself when any of her “perfect family” is harmed. However, her “perfect family” is very subjective to her own desire. (Please refer to “Hephaestus”, presented later, as an example.) 
> 
> Hellhounds: dog-like monsters from the Underworld, children of Nyx (Protogenoi of the Night) and Cerberus, guard dog of the Underworld. Feared by all demigods/half-bloods, except for children of Hades and other underworld deities. Abilities include: shadow travel (moving far distances through shadows, often using a lot of energy), enhanced strength and speed. 
> 
> Thank you for reading (and for kudo'ing, commenting, bookmarking and/or subscribing) and hope everyone is safe and well this quarantine summer!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know how you felt about the chapter - and/or if there's anything I can improve on! 
> 
> It's actually been years since I wrote fanfics, and I've just been lurking around the shady corners of AO3 and FF.net ever since. So, welcome back, am I right? In any case, the COVID-19 is pretty severe right now - so I hope everyone stays safe.


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